The sky was blue. This was a fact that they had taken for granted, and they liked it that way. It was simple – the sky was blue. It didn’t need to be considered a fine shade of turquoise, or aqua, or periwinkle. It was simply blue.

When the sky turned pink, it wasn’t a cause for alarm. It was a sunset spreading across the horizon. The notes of hypocrisy of a blue sky abruptly deciding to turn pink was lost on them. They took it for granted that it was a sunset and that the sky was still technically blue.

The first drop landed on asphalt and slowly bubbled. It was in an abandoned parking lot and wasn’t noticed by anyone. The second landed in an empty field, staining a bit of green grass a certain shade of blue.

When the third drop landed on the arm of a woman in a bustling crowd, she rubbed it absentmindedly and ignored the blue stain spreading on her skin. The fourth landed near a small girl with her finger pointed at an air quickly filling with shining blue droplets.

“Mommy,” she said, “it’s melting!”